The Unorthodox Hero
by Polarek
Summary: A young man finds himself in Skyrim. He has his own, personal goals and agendas whilst at the same time being told that he must save the world. The only problem? He doesn't play by anyones rules or expectations. He is clever and talented and approaches the challenges of the world in a pragmatic, albeit unconventional manner. Unassuming and unstoppable. Watch him struggle and rise!
1. Chapter 1: Helgen

Chapter 1: Helgen

The carriage hit a rock, and the resulting bump awoke a young man from his slumber. Painful, slumber, as he soon finds out.

'Darn, my head...' he thought. 'Why does it hurt?'

Taking a second to straighten out and open his eyes, and to his distaste being blinded by the light, his eyes having become unaccustomed to the luminescence of the world after being unconscious for however long. Taking a shaky breath, he looked around his environment and found himself surrounded by an army of pine trees, towering over him diligently and they themselves being watched over by the looming mountains dusted with snow all the way down to their feet. The world seemed to have a tendency to make people feel quite small. Speaking of people...

"You're finally awake" stated a man sitting opposite to our protagonist. A quick glance would reveal him to be a Nord of their race's regular stature with flowing blond hair, a part of which was tied into a braid on his left side. He appeared to be wearing some sort of blue padded leather armor over a chain mail, though it didn't reach down to his elbows, leaving arms exposed to the elements.

"You were trying to cress the border and caught in an Imperial ambush, just like us and that thief over there" he explained, nodding his head in the direction of a skinny fellow of a darker skin tone who sat on the other side of the wagon, his hands bound, and his head slumped down in defeat. In fact, looking over to the Nord opposite him, he too was bound. Looking at his own hands;

'Ah, me too? This complicates things...' he thought.

The fourth companion was also bound and gagged for some reason.

'Do they not want him to talk to othe... No, otherwise they would have gagged me and the talkative guy as well' he contemplated.

"Darn Stormcloaks, the Empire was nice and lazy until you came along. I could have stolen that horse and been half way to Hammerfell now" the thief accused. Then turned to our hero. "Hey, you and me; we shouldn't be here, its these guys that-"

"How about we introduce ourselves to one another?" our character proposed. "As much as I agree with you, simple civility principles makes it awkward for me to only recognise my interlocutors by their faces. For starters, I'm Vincent or simply Vince if I like you enough to call me that" Vincent stated.

The Nord opposite Vince smiled and introduced himself as Ralof. The thief in turn admitted to his name beeing Lokir.

Vincent sat up more proudly and said "Great, now that this is out of the way, do either of you know who this may be?" Vincent turned to the final brother in binds. A rich individual, if the blue garments lined with a fur collar were anything to go by. Vince turned to Ralof expecting a better explanation from him rather than the lowlife.

"That my friend-" Vince wanted to say that they weren't on that basis yet but kept him mouth shut for now "-is Ulfric Stormcloak, True High King of Skyrim. Leader of our glorious rebellion!" Ralof proclaimed proudly, adding grandiose to his voice. To this Vincent raised an eyebrow ever so faintly, skeptically but with amusement thinking to himself 'Leading a rebellion? From here? Yes truly amazing.' And them it hit him; _the_ Ulfric Stormcloak!? But, if the Empire caught them and put them on the same carriage-

"-ut if they caught you, oh Gods, where are they taking us?" Lokir seemed to share his thought. Vincent put him aside and noted him as a smarter-that-he-looks fellow.

Of course, being the valorous Nord that Ralof was, he said "I don't know, but Sovngarde awaits"

Within fifteen minutes, during which Vincent delighted himself with the environment around him, enjoying the songs of the birds perched up above them, they saw a little town behids the trees. At the same time he shivered from the biting cold of Skyrim. The rags that the Imperials put on him weren't the warmest apparel he could think of. But enough of that. His attention was immediately drawn to a figure sitting upon a steed. He wore something akin to the regular Imperial armor but it was solid leather in the shape of a human chest with a draconic pattern decorating the front. His old face oozed authority but by the look in his eyes, he was clearly not a patient man who wanted this fiasco to be done and dusted... by yesterday. General Tullius, as the soldiers referred to him, that got Vincent interested, turned to...

'Ugh, the Thalmor. Of course they're here. They have to meddle into every affair that doesn't belong to them, especially when it doesn't belong to them'

Soon, the carriages stopped and all of its passengers were forced to step out. Immediately, two Imperials, one of them a Nord, the other a Cyrodili wearing an officer's armor, walked up to them with a list, telling them to walk up to the block when their names are called out. This seemed to amuse Ralof, in a grimly manner.

Lokir turned out to be a coward and ran despite it being obvious to anyone that he would not make it far.

'Scratch that,' thought Vince 'he was not one of those smarter-than-they-look kind.'

Finally, the soldier with the list demanded his name from him. To which Vincent obliged.

Hadvar looked at the prisoner in front of him. It was a figure with lean musculature, although that could be due to his height of 6'2'' with magnolia coloured skin, mid length hair that was swept backwards and to the side, reaching just behind his ears. Said hair was of an odd shade, being somewhere between dirty and golden blond, but nonetheless being accentuated by his emerald green eyes which were full of vigour and life and intelligence to boot. He appeared to be young but it was hard to tell as his beard, which in colour was identical to his hair, that spanned from his hair to his chin and around his mouth, all of which seemed so neat it looked combed whilst retaining that wild curl. But his race was unidentifiable. Nord? Cyrodili? Too tall for a Breton. Definitely not Redguard.

Looking down at the list again, searching for a matching name in vain, he came to the conclusion that Vincent was not on the list. To this, the Captain scoffed and decided that he was fit for being shortened by a head.

'Oh, you will regret that, woman' Vincent thought. Though looking at the block and the executioner's axe, he doubted that his mental machination would ever come to transpire.

Suddenly, a roar of a mighty beast of unknown kind, for none present have ever heard such a sound, ripped through the sky, down to the bone of every mortal who heard it. And yet, the Imperials in their endless arrogance waved it off without a thought. Yet Vincent's years of travel taught him caution and his special senses were tingling. He could not shake off the impending feeling of doom. Once it was his turn to be decapitated, the roar sounded again only this time much closer. With a steady stride towards his end, he looked back at his only acquaintance, Ralof, and decided that he was not going to give the sneering bitch any satisfaction. Once she approached him to shove him to the ground he glared at her and informed her "I am very much capable of doing this myself, thank you very much. I do not need any help in being unjustly executed without trial, at least not from someone who is as incompetent at following the laws as you." Following which he placed his head on the block, ignoring the stench of blood of the previous man, a Stormcloak, and gazed up at his executioner with challenge in his eyes. This however, didn't last long. For a third roar tore through the skies, this time revealing its owner. And Vincent's eyes turned from rebellious, to shocked, to hysteric.

 _ **A/N: Hello readers! This will be my first story on this website and decided that this fandom will be my first port. Please understand that I try to spot all mistakes but I'm only human; if you spot any feel free to point them out in the comments.**_

 _ **As for the story, I would like to say that I have made a few tweaks to the Universum of The Elder Scrolls.**_

 _ **Firstly, Skyrim will be a bit bigger than in the game. Not huge, just not as small. You'll notice that I made the carriage ride last about 15 minutes, not 3, by increasing the distance they would have to travel.**_

 ** _Secondly, this fic will include Lore Friendly mods like Immersive Armors (not all of them, but just enough to add variation and realism) and some character mods to enrich the environment._**

 ** _All other additions will be Lore friendly, derived from the books that may be found In-Game._**

 ** _I intend to write every Wednesday, but my schedule is not fixed so there may be instances when I won't update. I will try to rectify this by posting two days later on a Friday but as aforementioned, this is not a promise. I will also try to keep the chapters about 1,000 to 2,000 words long._**

 ** _Finally, whilst I have a decent idea of where I want to take this story and what characters to include, feel free to PM me with your own OCs (but be aware that I will only accept 3 or 4, and that they will not necessarily be intrinsic to the story, acting more like side characters most of the time) and they will be accepted selectively, not on a first come first served basis._**

 ** _Hope you enjoy, please comment and follow!_**


	2. Chapter 2: Unbound

Chapter 2: Unbound

Vincent gawked as a monstrous winged shadow emerged from behind the nearby mountains. The beast circled around the town known as Helgen and started descending upon the unsuspecting villagers. As the executioner prepared his axe, the watchers atop towers spotted the threat approaching them.

"What is that?!" they shouted in panic and ignorance. "Over there, coming from the clouds!"

"Sentries, what do you see?" The Captain had no clue what they were seeing, thinking that her underlings were getting distracted. 'They'll need some discipline training' she thought. That was however quickly erased from her mind once a more knowledgeable Nord woman had put the pieces together.

"Dragon!" she screamed. At the same time, the executioner lifted the axe that was ought to end Vincent's misery and readied himself for the blow. Unsurprisingly, Vincent wasn't paying attention to that seeing as the dragon had decided to land and perch himself upon a tower behind the executioner. Mere twenty feet away from Vincent's face.

It was a terrifying sight to behold. The lizard's body was of a near-black slate colour, geared in an armor of impenetrable scales. It's wings wrapped around the tower, every muscle tense, those limbs faintly glittering in the sunlight. It's tail swung from side to side, spiked and poised to club any being foolish enough to approach it. Curved spikes, no... blades even, protruded along the beat's entire length and reaching their glory point, frightfully crowning the dragon's skull. For a short moment those beady bloodshot eyes stared into Vincent's very being before the monster opened its maw, Vincent's eyes widened after spotting the row of daggers one would presumably called 'teeth' though not even the term 'fangs' would do justice to the abomination's jaw adornments, and roared- no... shouted thunderously at them. A translucent blue force knocked away Vincen't would-be killer and Vicent himself before raising its head to the heavens above, again booming at the skies.

No man could have prepared themselves for the sundering of the skies that followed. Oblivion itself must have been dragged to Nirn for no Deadra could possibly induce such chaos from another dimension; blazing stones plummeted towards the peaceful Skyrim settlement. After shaking his head from the dizziness that followed the blast that flung him across half the square, Vincent saw the beast flying around the village, half of which was already aflame, bringing it to ruin.

"Come on kinsman, get up!" Ralof managed to catch Vince's attention and together they ran into the nearest tower that still stood. Once inside, with the doors safely closed, though what safety that provides Vince could not fathom, the two newest arrivals turned to Ulfric.

"Jarl Ulfric" Ralof began, "could the legends be true?"

Ulfric looked at them and with a grim tone declared that " _Legends_ don't burn down villages". With this logic, Vincent would not argue. He did however question why was he the only one with his hands tied. Heck, how did others get their bindings off? Once he voiced his opinion, Ralof kindly cut the ropes around his hands. Hearing the dragon's roars still piercing the skier outside, they decided to move up the tower. Again, if Ralof hadn't practically dragged him by the arm, Vince would have questioned _that_ too. After all, what good will that achieve? Yet not halfway up the tower, the dragon decided to burst through the walls, killing a Stormcloak or two and breathe fire on the first bodies it saw.

'Why does it sound like its shouting whilst breathing?' was what puzzled Vince. The blue burst, the burning skies and now the fire, they all sounded like some kind of cry.

Ralof approached the gaping hole left behind by the dragon and after scanning the environment, pointed to half and inn opposite them. "There, jump across to that inn, we will follow you shortly" he said. Vince stared at his compatriot in disaster in disbelief. He couldn't be serious! "Go!" commanded Ulfric. Vincent's eyes turned to the charring pile of wood that once hosted people as guests and saw a bed. After a quick glance back, he realized that this really was the only way for him to go so he jumped in the direction of the bed, hoping against all odds that it would cushion his fall.

It didn't.

Vincent unscrambled himself from the broken bed frame which collapsed the second Vincent landed on it. Vincent got up and picking up on the sounds of the dragon still terrorizing Helgen, decided that he better run onward. At first the was the problem of the collapsed stairs but that was remedied by the fact that half the floor had also collapsed and created an opening for Vincent to jump down. By the Divines did his body still ache from the previous fall! He got up and exited the burning shack and came across an unexpected scene. An imperial soldier, the imperial soldier who couldn't find his name on the list and allowed the Captain to send him to his death, was telling a young boy to hide as the dragon swooped down and incinerated what appeared to be the boy's father before leaving. The soldier handed the boy to an older man and informed him that he is off to join the defense. It is at this point that he spotted Vincent standing there like a pole. "Still alive prisoner? Stay close to me if you wanna stay that way. Come on!" he said and left. Vincent turned back to check if Ralof was following behind and since he wasn't, those lying bastards, he took off after the soldier. He said something about sticking close to the wall which paid off. The dragon landed atop a wall where they were just out of his sight and burned an imperial bowman who didn't even have the time to knock an arrow. Once the dragon left, they passed the charred corpse and found General Tullius along with a contingent of soldiers of all variants; swordsmen, archers and mages.

Tullius turned to them and shouted "Hadvar, into the keep! We're leaving soldier!"

Hadvar and Vincent ran towards the keep Tullius was talking about and came across Ralof of all people.

The two glared at each other. "Ralof you darned traitor, outta my way!"

Ralof retorted with "We're escaping Hadvar and you're not stopping us this time! Come on stranger, into the keep!"

Vincent watched as Ralof ran to the right side of the keep and Hadvar urged him to follow _him._

Vincent took only a second to make his choice. One the two had sent him to the block and the other actually freed him. Hence, he entered the keep with Ralof.

Once in the keep, they spotted a lifeless body of a Stormcloak. Ralof decided to give the man his last rites before turning to Vincent.

"That was a dragon,' he began, "no doubt. Just like legends of old."

Vincent delved into his vast knowledge of Tamriel's history. "Weren't they defeated during the Dragon War? And then hunted down by the Akavirii?"

Ralof shrugged at that. "Apparently not"

Still something didn't add up in Vincent's mind. There is no way this dragon kept quiet all those centuries, and even if, where could it have possibly been hiding? How has no one come across it and- scratch that. If they had they were probably dead.

Ralof decided it was time to move on and pointed to his fallen comrade. "Take Gunjar's gear, he won't be needing it anymore"

Vincent gave that a try. Whilst it wasn't a snug fit, its wasn't uncomfortable either. There was one problem however...

"Do you have a sword?"

Ralof looked at him bewildered "Do you not know how to use an axe? I though you're a Nord"

Vince rolled hi eyes. "First off, I am half Nord as my mother was a Breton" Ralof looked him up and down and didn't believe that. So Vincent continued "Yes, I took after my father physically. Secondly, being a Nord doesn't mean you know how to swing an axe." Again Ralof looked at him weird, "and thirdly, yes I can use an axe but I'm not quite proficient at it. I always preferred the sword". The last one seemed to satisfy Ralof. But after a quick search of their room, Vince ended up having to wield a war axe.

Soon after, noises could be heard from the other side of a gate. Ralof's eyes lit up with recognition. "Imperials, take cover!"

Once they did, the Imperials, one of them Vince recognized as the bitch who tried to kill him, waltzed in to the room. Indeed, one of them was the Captain, the other was Hadvar. All sides raised their blades in anticipation until Hadvar spoke up "Shall we try to escape together?". Everyone looked at him as if he had grown a second head. They all mutually understood the impossibility of this. Aside from the fact that Hadvar and his Captain had a duty to kill Ralof, Vincent had no intentions of co-operating with that woman. So before anyone could do anything, Vincent's hand became encircled with green crystals and he cast Oakflesh. His skin gained the faint texture of wood and glowed green. He raised his axe higher and proclaimed that he doesn't mind going with him and Ralof, but he will not stand the Captain's presence. 'I wonder how they solve that conundrum'.

Everyone tensed up. This was a situation without a solution. Or so they thought until Ralof suggested that Hadvar and his superior go ahead and that he and Vincent will follow a few minutes later. Silence was the initial answer until the Captain said that this is acceptable, but if they come across each other further down the keep, they will have to fight, especially if there will be others around. They all sheathed their weapons but as the Imperials turned around and started walking away, Vincent's eyes fell on the one thing he thought he lost. "Hey! That's my sword!"

The Imperial Captain turned around and put a hand on the second blade she's been carrying. "So? You're a criminal so I confiscated it"

Vincent straightened out, standing almost a foot taller than her. "Criminal? And what crime have I committed, may I ask?" The Captain tensed up and said that it was for being a rebel. "I'm not a rebel though. You arrested me whilst I was travelling, and you don't have any proof of me being align-" he looked at his current apparel. "That doesn't count. You have also confiscated my clothes and dressed my in rags. Speaking of which, where are my clothes?"

The Captain was unimpressed. "They were with us during the executions. They have probably burned by now"

"So why do you have my sword?" Vincent looked collected but was in fact fuming on the inside until it dawned on him. "Wait, you kept it as a trophy!?"

"So what if I did?"

Vincent had had enough. He chucked the axe aside and with both hands used Telekinesis spell to rip the scabbard off of the Captain's chest and caught it. Everyone could se the sheath. It was finely decorated, mostly dark blue leather but with traditional Nordic knots and patterns travelling along its length, their outlines in silver. What stood out to everyone was the slightly curved hilt, roughly at a 20 degree angle, although the curve only started half a hand-width away from the cross guard. It was pure chestnut wood and capped with gold at the bottom and a narrow gold cross guard. Why was it curved was anyone's guess.

Vincent looked at his prized possession and then at the Captain. "You may go now".

With the Captain glaring daggers at him, the two Imperials left.

Turning around, Vincent walked to a chair and sat down and started counting down 3 minutes.

"You're only giving them three minutes? That's not a lot" commented Ralof. Vincent looked up at his companion. "She stole from me and tried to have me killed. She said that once we come across each other, we will have to fight. _I want that_. I want to have a good reason to get her back for it. And my patience to doing so is very short today, so yes, I only gave them 3 minutes. One and a half now, to be precise."

However, their moment of respite was broken when the keep shook and parts of the ceiling started to fall to the ground. They decided it would be safer to start going now.

The keep's stairs lead down to a corridor blocked by a mound of rubble though luckily they could walk around that via a storage room to the side. Neither bothered looking for anything useful, Hadvar had probably taken everything of value. They continued on their way until they came across what looked like a torture chamber. They deduced so by the stench of corpses, the cages and the overall atmosphere the place was giving off. However they had mixed reaction to what they also found here. Ralof was distraught to find the bodies of more Stormcloaks whereas Vince was silently celebrating the fact that on the opposite side of the room was the Captain and some other old Imperial whom was wounded. Vincent lifted his scabbard up and unsheathed his sword sideways in an elegant flourish so that the blade made almost no noise. Enough, however, for the Captain to hear and turn around and scowl. She was furious that they already caught up with her. Shouldn't have sent Hadvar ahead to report to Solitude. Vincent was standing with his sword ahead of him, pointed slightly downwards. Ralof could not help but notice is was a very fine blade; it was surprisingly shiny and smooth except for the middle which was beveled inwards and pitch black with more silvery Nordic patterns standing out at the same thickness as the blade. Another point of interest was its shape; most swords would curve, narrow or otherwise change shape. Vince's sword was slightly longer than the average one handed sword but completely straight. Its width did not change until the very end, where the last few inches turned into a sharp point. What's more Vince's stance confused the Nord a lot. He stood almost sideways to his opponent and held the sword with only one hand, the other behind his back.

"Why are you here so early?" spat out the Captain. To this Vincent grinned a little, "The dragon had implied that it recommends we hurry up when he tried to bring the ceiling on our head." Ralof saw Vincent's hand enveloped with odd orange-bluish energy. Its at this point that the Captain charged. Ralof prepared to intercept her but saw that Vincent wasn't at all perturbed by her charge. In fact, the moment she was close enough, he side stepped her. She reeled around, this time with hear sword at the ready in a more defensive fashion. The two approached each other and the Captain swung her sword. However, Vincent was better than that. He lifted his blade up by a fraction and with a flick of his wrist, moved the Captain's sword to the side, which created an opening which Vincent took and moved forward and sliced at the Cyrodili's arm and stood behind her. She turned to him, this time weary and in pain. Her sword arm was bleeding above the elbow and it hurt too much to use it so she had to switch hands. Vincent saw that and knew he won so he decided to finish it quickly. He stepped forwards, this time taking the offensive with his sword at chest height and perfectly parallel to the ground. He thrust forward but found his attack blocked.

This was not a problem. He decided to disconnect from that confrontation, twirling his saber for show and to confuse his opponent. The moment the Captain raised her sword above her head, Vince's other hand came from behind his back and he stood with his hand outstretched. To the surprise of all, the Captain's sword went flying back. She saw that but when she turned around to try and comprehend how Vincent did that, she found the very tip of his sword pushed into her throat. She stood there for five seconds before Vince pulled his blade out and let her choke and sputter on her own blood and proceeded to wipe his saber clean before sheathing it in a manner identical to how he unsheathed it.

The Imperial fell to the floor and Vince started walking forwards. Waking from his stupor, Ralof caught up to him. "That was impressive! How did you do that with her sword though? Can you disarm anyone like that?"

Vincent smiled lightly. "Thank you. As for your questions, have you ever heard of a spell called Telekinesis?" Ralof's blank stare was enough of a response. "Well, it was what I used to first get Elegance off of her" seeing Ralof's confusion he explained that this is what he calls his saber. "So on my travels over the past few years, I decided to experiment with magic a little bit and have come up with a spell that has an opposite effect: it pushes things away. I'm hoping to eventually make it strong enough to fling people backwards" at the last bit Ralof's eyes widened. At this point they stepped into a huge chamber filled with Imperials. Again, Vincent drew Elegance and proceed to eliminate the nearest soldier with devastating speed before he could even draw his sword. After that, the other soldiers lunged at them. Whilst Ralof was managing against two soldiers he could see Vincent being swarmed by three, one of which was an officer. Thinking that his friend would need help, Ralof kicked one of his opponents in the shin and wedged his axe in his skull and faced the other Imperial. The soldier however, had a shield which made it much more difficult to get past his defenses but would hinder his movements as Imperial shields weren't agility-friendly. The soldier held the shield high and Ralof could do nothing to strike him until he decided to risk it and just rammed into the bastion and toppled him over. Unlike the soldier, Ralof expected that and was back on his feet first hence able to deal the killing blow.

He turned to help Vince but was shocked to see the half-breed dueling nothing but the officer, the other two soldiers sprawled dead on the floor. He watched as Vince actually held his sword with both hands this time, using the curved hilt for better leverage. The superiority of his tactic showed. His blows were smoother and faster and upon closer inspection Ralof noted that the officer's leg was bleeding profoundly. The two fighters locked blades and when it appeared that Vince was going to be overpowered, he pulled down on the hilt's curve and redirected the officer's blade downwards and then with fantastic footwork spun to stand behind the officer and using the momentum of his spin, cleaved the head off of the Cyrodili's shoulders and held his blade up in the air in a show of aloof finality before gracefully sheathing it again. Ralof was more than impressed "You are a fine swordsman". Vincent looked at him almost amused. "Thank you. You too. As in, you're a decent axe wielder, I have no clue what you're like with a sword".

Their little moment was interrupted by an arrow narrowly missing Vince's head. They saw two new enemies higher up, holding bows. Before Ralof could even find cover, Vincent's hand fired off a lightning that hit an oil lamp above the head of one of the imperial soldiers. When the lamp fell, it exploded with fire although what shocked both of them was that the fire spread along the ground rapidly until it started consuming the other archer. There must have been an oil spill up there.

'How convenient' mused Vince.

They continued down the cavern which turned to be a natural geological structure rather than being man-made. They came across a room full of crushed spiders the size of dogs. Thankful, that they weren't the ones who had to deal with those. However, just behind the corner it seemed, a battle was going on. Once they closed that distance they saw an Imperial soldier being swiped away by a bear. His body landed several feet away with a gash along his chest and he wasn't moving. His compatriot, Hadvar, became the focus of the bear's attention. When Hadvar charged the bear's massive claws caught the blade and forced it out of Hadvar's grip, knocking him down to the floor as well. Just as the vast animal was about to rip him to pieces, it was struck by green energy and it stopped. It looked to Vincent who still help Calm spell in his hand. Seeing as the Illusion spell did it's job, the bear went back to its resting place. The three men decided to leave the cave quickly before the spell wore off even though Vince knew that it would last long enough for them to just casually stroll away from its cave.

All were delighted to see light up ahead and ran to the cave's entrance, already feeling the cold of the outside world blowing in.

Once outside they basked in the warm sunlight and biting cold air, joyous that their plight was over. Until a vast black shadow flew over them. The dragon from Helgen flew away, without seeing them, towards a massive ruin atop a mountain and disappeared from view. All three let out a breath they were holding before realizing they were in a very awkward situation. An escapee, an Imperial and a Stormcloak.

Vincent, wanting to avoid any more unnecessary confrontations, decided to speak up first, "You two, do you have anywhere to go? Perhaps a nearby camp or outpost?"

The two looked at each other before saying at the same time "Riverwood".

 **Wow, so this was not supposed to be such a long chapter. I might have to time myself next week, get a good idea of how long to write for to not burn myself out.**

 **Anyway, I hope the wait was worth it for you guys.**

 **Until next week!**


	3. Chapter 3: Settlements

Chapter 3: Settlements

Vince looked at them questioningly. First his eyes moved to Ralof, then to Hadvar and back again. Seeing that the silence between them was beginning to grow ever more awkward, decided to voice his worry.

"Riverwood? Both of you?

Ralof and Hadvar looked at him with doubt, unsure of how he would take the fact that;

"Its our home village" said Hadvar.

"Aye, my sister Gerdur runs the mill and his uncle is the local smith" added Ralof.

Vincent was speechless for a second, trying to comprehend this newly acquired information. "Let me see if we're on the same page" he began, "you two grew up together as neighbours, I'll even assume childhood friends, and yet you were ready to slaughter each other back in Helgen? And don't say that you're on the opposing side of the war," he quickly added seeing as they wanted to argue with him, "that basically means you were willing to murder each other simply because of _opposing political opinions_ "

Abashedly, like two scolded children, the two Nords nodded their heads whilst not looking up. Once Vince put it that way, this really was what they were doing.

"Besides, is that really the only place you two can go now?"

Ralof spoke up "No, but its the closest. We need to resupply and rest, and warn the locals of the threat lurking around these mountains".

Ah, that made sense. 'They want to warn their families' Vince mused. 'How noble'

He took a deep breath, deciding that he too was in a similar predicament after all. His original garments are lost forever and he cannot possibly wear the uniform around everywhere he goes. Half of Skyrim will try to hunt him down for it. Not to mention, food and directions would be fantastic luxury right now.

"May I come with you to this Riverwood?" Vincent inquired.

Ralof was more than happy to accompany him to the village. Hadvar on the other hand... "I can't just stroll into town with you two in tow. The rumors would spread and be the bane of us. Two Stormcloaks and an Imperial together?" he explained.

Vince's eyes narrowed, "How many times do I have to say this? I am in no way affiliated with the rebels. I'm wearing this poor excuse of an armor because I had nothing else to wear."

Ralof's eyes flared at the degrading mention of the arms of his cause. Vincent didn't even let him speak his mind before adding "Don't delude yourself Ralof. This armor is pretty terrible, no matter how grandiose you may believe your rebellion to be. That's not to say Hadvar's gear is any better. It doesn't even cover up most of his arms which I don't think I need to mention is a glaring flaw both in terms of battle practicality and weather assimilation."

Neither could argue with that.

Vincent sighed and finally conceded "So where is this Riverwood?". There was no point arguing about armor design. They agreed that once they got close to Riverwood, Ralof and Vincent would enter followed by Hadvar a couple minutes later. It might raise suspicion but at least that wouldn't be as preposterous as a Stormcloak and Imperial marching side by side.

And so they set off North towards a wooded valley between the mountains. The walk was pleasant enough, Vincent was able to absord be land's natural beauty and even picked a few flowers and mushrooms on the way. When they started walking downhill, a sound of a running river could be heard. Just in time as well, they were getting quite thirsty. But before that...

"These are the Guardian stones, three of the thirteen standing stones dotting Skyrim's landscape." proclaimed Ralof. Vincent was unsure as to what their purpose was and yet felt and unexplainable pull towards them. With every step he took, he realized that one stone in particular was making his senses tingle; the middle stone. After getting close enough, he could make out the figure of a mage carved into the stone. His eyes widened wen he saw that this was in fact a representation of the Mage Constellation. His hand moved on its own accord and his palm gently brushed the stone and he felt an inflow of wisdom and energy and felt more harmoneous with his magicka than ever before.

"Mage, heh?" Hadvar asked, "Not quite the same as an honourable worrior but not bad". Ralof smiled, "Trust me, he can fight well enough and dousn't need the superstitious help of a standing stone."

But Vincent ignored that. What he was astounded by was the beam of light that ascended to the skies and highlighted the stars of the Mage Constellation. Looking back at his companions, it seemed like they didn't see it, nor did they believe in the power of the stones and yet here it was, so ironically close to them. Shaking his stupor off, Vincent decided to carry on down the road. 'Standing still we'll never reach our destination' he thought.

Sometime later, their path was blocked by a pack of salivating wolves. Whilst Hadvar and Ralof got ready for a fight, Vince had no intentions of wasting his time and effort fighting off animals so he waved his arms, hands coated in green and the wolves lost interest. Some might consider it a waste of magicka but to Vince it was good practice of affecting multiple enemies simultaneously.

'With time, perhaps I can manipulate a gang of bandits' he thought. 'Definitely worth looking into'.

Shortly after, they made it to Riverwood. It turned out to be a quaint settlements of wood and stone with hidden among trees. People were meandering about, carrying on with their daily lives without a care in the world, absolutely oblivious of the fact that a nearby village was just razed to the ground by an presumed-to-be-extinct mythological beast.

As was agreed, Ralof and Vince walked in first.

 _-Several Hours Later-_

"What do you mean you won't let me in?" Vincent was beginning to get impatient with the people of Whiterun, and he hasn't even entered the city proper yet. First, after he decided not to get tangled in a battle against a giant because he was completely freaked out (he's never seen one before) some gal had the gall to approach him and scold _him_ for not helping out. 'The nerve' he remembers thinking. Then they boasted of being the Companions or something and how oh so noble they were. Their tone told him everything he needed to know; some kind of warriors with a superior sense of honor. Pft.

Already his journey to this city was interesting as it was, though granted, nowhere near as eventful as Helgen, and now fate had it that he encounter guards who refused to let him inside. Wouldn't be much of a problem if not for the fact that the sun was setting and he did not have the time for the short trek back to Riverwood.

"Sorry citizen. But the orders are to not let anyone in with the dragons about" the guard replied.

'Dragons' Vince noted, 'plural.' and gulped. One was enough for a lifetime, hopefully he would not have to deal with a single one from now on. Oh, how much does he not know yet!

"And if I said I'm on official business regarding said dragons?" he offered. "I'm not sure if you heard, but Helgen was burned by one of those aforementioned beasts and Riverwood cries for protection". Yes, Gerdur asked him to travel all the way to a Jarl, as if any random straggler could have audience with him, and plead for his help. At least she was nice enough to give him an silver necklace in her gratitude for keeping her brother safe which helped procure some gold to haggle with the local town trader Lucan, who was, unlike Alvor the town smith, willing to trade for Vincent's Stormcloak uniform. Vince had the sneaking suspicion that Alvor couldn't buy that; his nephew was a Legionnaire. Either way, Vincent acquired a simple blue shirt and blue cloak with a hood to travel, deciding to keep the fur boots and gloves. He couldn't afford an outfit like his old one just yet. Not after the Imperials took his purse.

The question from the guard brought him back to the present, "Then I suppose that the Jarl will want to talk to you. Fine, I'll let you in but you go straight to Dragonsreach and report to Jarl Balgruuf." He opened the gates for Vincent who could finally step in. The first thing he saw was a man and a woman arguing.

"I simply cannot fulfill and order of that size of my own" the woman said. She was dressed in what appeared to be this province's typical smithing outfit and apron. The other Nord was dressed in... 'Ugh, what's an Imperial soldier doing here?' he thought.

"Why don't you swallow that pride and ask Eorlund Graymane for help?" she continued but the man scoffed at that.

"I'd rather bow down in front of Ulfric than ask him for help. Besides, Graymane would never forge steel for the Empire" the Nord rebutted and walked off promptly.

Vincent decided to ignore this town's drama and wlked uphill to what turned out to be the market square. Dragonsreach was looming above it all so it was not too difficult to walk in the general direction. This might take some maneuvering around the streets of this city but he wouldn't lose sight of his destination. As he was climbing up the stairs to the higher level of the town, a smug Redguard approached him. "I own a very profitable business here and often advise the Jarl on political matters. What about you, do you go to the Cloud District very often?"

Vincent scrutinized the man in front of him. "You?" he asked "You believe that you have the intellectual capacity to comprehend politics and that you have the skill to glibly speak at court alongside a man of such importance?" Vince giggled a bit, speaking just loud enough for anyone to hear. Something told him that people were enjoying seeing this fool being verbally vaporized. "You can't even refrain yourself from boasting to a random fellow you just met on the streets. Something tells me that the Jarl has a steward to advise him, and that you are not that person." Vince's eyes hardened and his voice became more commanding "Now remove yourself from here, I'm going to that palace. I have news which are of _actual_ importance to the Jarl." he added the second part smugly.

The Redguard's face contorted with rage and was about to retort but Vincent paced forward without glancing back at the... mild disturbance and went straight for Dragonsreach. He could hear other people laughing at the Redguard, who's name was Nazeem, and telling him he had it coming to him.

'No need to let him know that I don't even have an infinitesimal clue as to what the Cloud District is' Vincent mused.

As he climbed the final set of stair, the vastness of the palace became even more pronounced; it shot upwards to the clouds. A fortress made of wood with decors carved into every pillar and every rooftop having a dragon head sculpture on it. It was far more breathtaking up close than from afar.

Anyhow. Pushing through the great gates, Vincent was met with a blast of comforting warmth coming from the roaring hearth in the middle of the hall. And once more, Vincent was awestruck with the rugged beauty of the hall. Much like the outside, it consisted of wood expertly carved with Nordic runes up along the pillars. There were balconies overlooking the hall on either side, no doubt having a secondary purpose of acting as a defensive vantage point for archers. Not that they didn't blend in with the atmosphere though. However, Vincent's hairs stood on end when he heard a sword being drawn. His hand automatically landed on the hilt Elegance, ready fro a fight if one broke out. Looking around, he located the source of his apprehension; a Dunmer with a simple steel sword was approaching him. Her eyes mistrustful, her pose ready for a fight as well. "Who are you? The Jarl is not supposed to be receiving any visitors today" she demanded.

After a short stare-off, Vince decided to relax and took his hand off of Elegance to show that he meant no harm. "I have information regarding a dragon attack on Helgen and a message from Riverwood. I would like to speak to the Jarl regarding this."

She however still did not trust him. "You may talk to me abou-"

"Let him come Irileth. He has news that interest me" a deep voice called from the throne. Reluctantly the Dunmer obeyed and permitted Vincent to step closer to the Jarl. Jarl Balgruuf the Greater was dressed very well in red and gold, with a beard and long blond hair tied back and a circlet sitting atop his brow. Vincent had to admit, that despite the dismissive pose of the Jarl on his throne, he demanded attention and respect. Almost enough for Vincent to actually give him that.

Once he was close enough, he folded one hand behind his back and the other one across his abdomen and bowed forward. He didn't know the customs of bowing of this land but had faith that it would be recognised as one and that it would suffice. It did.

"What is your name, traveller? And what is this I hear of Helgen and Riverwood?" the Jarl asked.

"My name is Vincent, sir. As for Helgen and Riverwood, well that would be a long story..."

 **Sorry for being late by two days. I had little time to write on Wednesday, and admittedly have fallen into binge-watching an anime.**

 **But anyways, I digress. Here it is: chapter three for you guys!**

 **I forgot to say this in previous chapters but please don't be scared of following and reviewing this story. It doesn't bite.**

 **And again, it doesn't say it in the description, but feel free to PM me with your OC's. They won't necessarily be crucial but I will implement them as meaningful side characters.**

 **The next chapter will be of Bleak Falls Barrow so expect lots of action!**

 **Until next week.**


	4. Chapter 4: Bleak Falls Barrow

Chapter 4: Bleak Falls Barrow

Vincent awoke in a bed in a room unfamiliar to him. His blinked and rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the blurry vision. Looking around, he noticed it was a simple room with few decoration, a little table and chair and a pleasant smell permeated the air; the smell of a warm vegetable stew. Then it hit him. He was in the Bannered Mare.

'Right, I came here after speaking to the Jarl and his wizard and-'. He groaned. "Why did I agree to this darned quest?" he muttered under his breath. Walking into the main hall, Vince came across a lit hearth with some of the tavern quests already wandering around and eating. He himself dragged his feet to the counter and sat down and opening his pouch to count his money realized 'oh, right. That's why I agreed...'

His purse was almost empty. After glancing at the golden content of the purse he guessed his fortune amounted to about 16 gold Septims. This would be enough for breakfast and the food for the journey. But what about other resources needed? Vince grimaced, 'I'll have to do physical work to earn a living. At least for now'. Upon noticing his face, the bartender asked what's wrong. After hearing his complaint she informed him that breakfast was included with the fee he paid yesterday. That made his day.

Once he left the inn, he had time to for the first time take in the marketplace of Whiterun. At least a dozen and a half of stalls littered the central plaza, most of them selling food, one hunter selling his game and even one vendor trying to convince people to buy his hand-made jewelry. Turning his head, Vince saw two permanent stores. One had a sign Belethor's General Goods and the other was an Apothecary. Vince's eyes lingered on that one before he hastily opened his satchel. Yes! Of course he picked those stupid flowers and mushrooms whilst on his way to Riverwood! He could trade those and then have enough money to buy substantial traveling gear from Belethor. Whilst he wasn't an alchemist, he recognized some of those ingredients as those containing regenerative properties. Whoever ran the apothecary will not swindle him out of the money he needed.

 _Several Hours Later_

Vincent dropped a whole stack of sticks on the floor in front of him. He was currently on the top level of a watchtower overlooking the vale that Riverwood resided in. He propped his cheap tent under the stairs and was preparing to light a fire to keep himself warm as the blizzard raged and howled around him. What was he doing in an unmanned watchtower? 'Blasted bandits. What were those vagabonds doing here?'. Well, it wasn't unmanned. Long story short:

As Vince was leaving Whiterun, all prepped to go to this Bleak Falls Barrow that was located among the little mountain range that divided Whiterun and Riverwood, at that precise time, Irileth was seeing off a pair of guards that the Jarl decided to dispatch to Riverwood as an answer to Gerdur's plea. At first Vince was going to laugh at the preposterity of the idea of these two fending off the demon that leveled Helgen to the ground, but it turns out that their primary job was to evacuate citizens, not kill a dragon. Latching on to the opportunity, Vince decided to walk with the two Nords and have a chat with them. It let him learn more about Skyrim and he was able to ask for more precise directions to this Bleak Falls Barrow. Farengar's were vague at best and amounted to nothing more that "its there atop the mountains".

Soon he had to split away from his two traveling companions and start his trek uphill which was becoming more tiresome by the minute, made worse by the worsening weather; the wind was blowing in his face and snow started to fall. 'Splendid, a blizzard. Can this get any worse?' he remembers thinking.

Apparently it could. The wind blew at the right moment and an arrow barely skimmed his left arm. Looking up ahead, he could distinguish a lean figure aiming an arrow at him. This figure was standing next to a watchtower. Figuring that the guards must have mistaken him for a foe, he held his hands up. But just in case, Vince used Detect Life and found that two other being were racing down the tower. Vincent saw another arrow being fired at him and dodged it. He saw the two second two figures emerging from the tower and eventually, they were close enough to distinguish as anything but guards. Vincent's hand went to Elegance's hilt and the other hand crackled with lightning.

And so he now found himself bunking in the watchtower's highest floor, waiting out the snowstorm outside. This went on into the night.

 _Next Day_

"Shouldn't have come here!"

"You're as good as dead!"

"Now you're mine!"

Those bandits were getting annoying. After waking up and continuing his journey up and down the mountain pass, Vincent was greeted with the sight of an imposing fortress. Some in Skyrim call this Nordic Ruins, but the stone arches were not falling apart and the walls looked as strong as they were when they were built. Those were not ruins, merely, an abandoned holdout. Although, 'abandoned' was not the right term. This time, with favourable weather, Vince could spot four individuals milling around, patrolling.

Without a second though he unsheathed his sword and cast Oakflesh. No bother trying to hide, the path to the Barrow was in plain sight, out in the open. And of course, the bandits have noticed him.

Preparing Telekinesis, Vince waited for the arrow that was bound to- here! He caught it with his magic, mere 7 feet away from him. What's more, he spotted the perp who tried to kill him and launched the arrow back at them. The silhouette of the archer collapsed to it's knees, though weather they died would have be checked later. Right now, two thugs were running right at him, with a third one staying further back, having seen Vincent's display of magic. The first opponent, a massive Orcish brute, swung his warhammer at Vince's head. Needles to say, he managed to dodge that by ducking and quickly slicing the vagabond's stomach open. This left him with a Nord in banded iron armor wielding an iron mace and a hide shield and a Redguard woman with a simple iron sword. At first he though that the Nord man was going to be a bigger threat but it soon turned out to be the Redguard. She was deceptively fast. The Nord ad to go so he could focus on her.

Being surrounded by them on both sides was not going to help so Vince decided to do what he does best and danced circles around them until the Redguard found herself behind the Nord. The man raised his shield, which Vince took as a good chance to dual cast an ice spike that pierced right through the hide shield and into his face, killing him instantly. Now he was stuck with just the Redguard. She narrowed here eyes at him, he was no pushover. Their blades met momentarily until they both tried to strike and defend against each other. Vincent was clearly the better swordsman, that became quickly apparent after noticing how effortlessly he parried he strikes but she in turn started getting on his nerves because she kept jumping back when he tried to push an offensive. They disconnected and to Vincent's surprise the woman drew a short knife from behind her back and threw it right into his shin. It hurt like hell despite being a relatively tiny knife. Unbeknown to him, this is what prisoners called a shiv. This hindered his movement by a lot. But that would not bring her victory; if he couldn't move as fast, he would make sure she couldn't fight. Gripping his sword hilt with his second hand, right over the metal pommel, he pushed lighting into the metal which traveled under he hilt, to the blade itself, without being visible. The moment the Redguard charged at him and their blades met, she cried out in pain and her arm spasmed, dropping her sword. The electrical charge seemed to have done it's job and travelled through her sword to her arm, which she now clutched. Without wasting a second, Vincent drove Elegance through her chest. Once she dropped dead, so did Vince fall to the ground, clutching his poor bleeding leg. He pulled the shiv out and placed his hand to the wound and watched as ribbons of golden light danced around his limb and made the wound be no more.

After checking that the archer was indeed dead, and feeling proud of himself for such an accurate, albeit lucky hit, he went on inside.

It was no better. More bandits to deal with.

One bandit died after pulling a lever. It turns out you needed to solve a puzzle to open the gate to continue. Though Vince would hardly call that a puzzle, rather more like a joke. 'Besides, what was the practical application of this back when people lived here? What moron came up with that idea?' he wondered.

After a few minutes of wandering deeper into the ruins, he heard cries for help and was forced to slay a terrifying spider of monstrous proportions. The only good thing from that was that he managed to collect some Frostbite Venom. He was forced to free a dark elf called Arvel who promptly tried to escape only to find himself killed by an abomination that Vincent had never come across and only ever heard of in stories; a draugr. He of course was able to dispose of those undead being pretty quickly, they were not as fast and strong as the living, probably due to their rotten flesh, but also because one of the components of his sword was silver. He had smiths add this metal to his weapon to make it look nicer, mostly, but then found out that this precious metal was particularly deadly against a plethora of fiends, chief amongst them undead.

Arvel, as he found, was carrying a huge claw made of gold of all things and a journal. After skim reading the journal, Vincent was glad to discover that some sort of power was contained within the Barrow Sanctuary and that the claw belonged to Lucan, the trader from Riverwood who would most likely pay a handsome amount to get his property back.

After dealing with more of the nuisance draugr, Vincent had to open a door which required some sort of key. Once he recognized some of the sigils on the door's rings, it dawned on him that the claw also has such sigils on them and that it fits into the keyhole (though he didn't initially recognize it as a keyhole).

'That was a better puzzle' he thought, 'though still impractical for day to day life'.

He stepped into a huge chamber carved into a massive natural cave and saw a massive wall with scripts on it, a coffin like the one that draugr resided in and a chest. Deciding to climb up the platform to explore the monument in detail, he felt a strong pull to the wall and chants started ringing in his voice, at first subtle, then growing in power as he came closer to the wall. One... word?... sprang to life and glowed and called to him. The scratched scribbled became clear, at least in his mind, like as if he knew the script. Fus.

"Force..." he whispered. How did he kno-

Crash! He whipped around and to his horror another draugr, this one clad in warlord armor and a fierce ancient horned helmet, climbed out of his tomb. It had something on its back.

"Fus Ro Dah!" it shouted and flung Vincent right into the wall behind him. Vincent recognized this: it was the same energy that the dragon used to push him away. 'What sorcery is this!?' Vince panicked.

Shaking his head, he saw the draugr right above him and just barely managed to dodge out of the way of it's axe. He felt a cold whipping past him and saw the frosty veins on the weapon. Enchanted. Great.

He got up on his feet and put as much distance between himself and the undead as possible by standing on the other side of the plateau and drew Elegance and cast Oakflesh. He was not taking chances. He prepared flames in his left hand and threw a spout of fire at the draugr. The zombie's armor absorbed most of this however as flames were not great against heavy armor unless one was to heat it up over periods of time. Vincent did not have the time to do that.

He stood opposite the abomination for some time, thinking. 'Right, it has an axe. What it will do is try to swing at me from an overhead strik-'

"Fus Ro Dah!"

Vincent saw the blue energy again blast him off the cliff and down to the floor below, knocking the breath out of him. Once he got up painfully, he saw the draugr stammering down the stairs. Vincent readied his sword and charged; if he is to beat this thing he will have to do it in close combat, he cannot give it the opportunity to... shout... do that thing it did... again. Thankfully as predicted, the draugr raised its war axe above its head. This allowed Vincent to take a quick swipe at its exposed arm with full force and cut it arm cleanly off just below the elbow. The draugr was not impressed however, and punched him with its still intact hand. Vincent's Oakflesh took the brunt of the impact and he could take a jab at the draugr's knee. As he had hoped, it left it crippled and prevented it from moving.

However, to his horror, the draugr took a deep breath. Remembering what happened before, Vincent instantly thrust his sword through the dead Nord's throat and silenced it before it could Fus Ro Dah him again.

Vincent was now breathing heavily. He had never faced such a deadly opponent. What ever it was, this Fus Ro Dah ability could be wielded as a powerfull weapon.

Vince's breath hitched. 'Fus? Like the word from that wall?' he thought, stupefied. 'Could that be...'

"Fus!" he shouted. Unfortunately, without effect. No great force appeared.

'Perhaps I need all the other words'

"Fus Ro Dah!". And nothing.

He glanced around the cavern, glad that no one was there to see him make an absolute fool out of himself. Turning back to the draugr, he saw that it carried a stone tablet on its back, with visible dragon images outlining its edges. This must be the Dragonstone Farengar wanted! So he picked it up, albeit with struggle, and went back up to the plateau. The word wall did not reveal any other words to him, so he decided to quickly scribble the symbols upon it in his journal. Well, Arvel's journal but he ripped out that loser's words and kept it for himself. Then he turned to the chest and his eyes glinted with hope. Hope that was not crushed: the treasures within consisted of over a hundred septims, old scrolls and a sapphire. His favourite gemstone of all.

Looking around for the final time, he collected that he could and trudged off up the stairs that would lead him out to the open world.

 **So I have to publish this early as I will be unavailable on Wednesday :P**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter, I tried to put enough action into it and to structure it differently from the first two by experimenting with time skips and skim writing certain parts of the story. Please tell me how you like that. Should I have described the interaction with the spider and Arvel or are you glad I skipped the part everyone knows off by heart?**

 **Also, I found an online spell checker so no more massively misspelt chapters for you guys to deal with!**

 **Again, feel free (as in, please DO IT) to follow and review!**


	5. Chapter 5: Balgruuf's Errand

Chapter 5: Errand For Balgruuf

"Here" proclaimed Vince as he slammed the Dragonstone on Farengar's desk. "One Dragonstone fresh from a Barrow"

Farengar looked at the stone surprised, "Well, you certainly are a cut above the average brute the Jarl sends my way". Man, was this guy getting on Vincent's nerves. 'A brute? Do I look like an uncivilized brute to him?' He decided not to interject to correct the mage before him, this one was the Jarl's personal court mage. It wouldn't earn him any favors with the Jarl. "So what now, if I may ask?"

Farengar did not look at him, rather he studied the Dragonstone and its markings, "This is where your job ends and mine begins. The work of the mind, sadly undervalued in Skyrim." Again, Vincent's pride was hurt but he did not have the opportunity to say anything as Farengar turned to his collegue. "It appears your information was right afterall, and we have our friend to thank for retrieving it for us."

Ah, yes, there was this woman, with a hood obscuring her face, who seemed just as interested in Farengar's work as the Jarl, if not more. What Vince could see was that she carried an Elven dagger and wore a simple leather outfit. She couldn't have been too old, somewhere among her 30's if her voice was anything to go by. She looked directly at Vince, revealing a bit of her pale face and some strands of blond hair. "You went to Bleak Falls Barrow and got that? Nice work." At least someone appreciated the fact that he risked his life.

"If you want your reward, talk to the Jarl or his steward. They'll sort it out for you. And if that would be all, we have a stone to analy-"

"Actually, I have one more question," Vince said, "would either of you know what this is?" He unravelled the piece of paper with scribbles resembling the scripts he found on the wall in the Barrow. "There was an entire stone wall with those written all over it's face, though as you can imagine, I couldn't bring the entire thing so I copied the, well... what I consider to be, the text."

Both looked at the transcript before them quizzically. Neither had seen any marking like these before. Heck, it didn't even look like any conventional language. Daedric symbols at least looked like letters whereas this resembled claw marks. "No," began Farengar's accomplice,"I have never seen such language before." Farengar on the other hand walked up to one of his bookshelves and pulled out a book and started skimming through the pages. After repeating it with two more books he seemed to have found what he was looking for. He walked back to them and laid the book on the desk for all to see. "Here." he pointed to a short message written in the same mysterious text, under which there appeared to be a translation, though an irrelevant one. "The book refers to this as the dragon tongue."

Vincent's head shot up with his eye brows furrowed. "And how, pray tell, would dragons write? I don't think they had hands and thumbs to so..."

Farengar stayed quiet and kept reading the book, but that revealed no other information. "Sorry, but I wouldn't know. All I know is what the ancient Nords had written down, and they didn't have the tendency to do that a lot."

Vincent sighed and put the paper back in his pocket. He would have to do more research. Though not all by himself. "If you find anything new, could you tell me?"

Farengar thought about it for a minute. It wouldn't waste his time, he was researching dragons at the Jarl's behest so this was bound to come up anyway. "Sure, if I come across anything, I'll let you know."

The woman was not so happy about this request however. "You also interested in dragon research?"

Vincent caught on to what she really meant: "And why would you need that information? What use do you have for it?", and wasn't going to give her what she wanted. "I almost died next to that wall, and now it turns out that it holds a secret that even a dragon fanatic does not know the answer to. I would be happy to take away something more than just gold away from that debacle."

They glared at each other, both knowing that they figured each other out and gave up trying. They knew that everything they would say would be half-truths and riddles at this point. Which is good, it should teach her not to get into Vince's affairs. He didn't stick his nose into her business.

"In that case," he said, "I'll just go then. I hope this stone proves useful." And walked off.

"You did me a great favor, friend!" Balgruuf beamed. "Avenicci, I put away some gold for Vincent should he have completed the task for Farengar. It appears that he has." The Jarl's steward went to gather Vincent's reward and in the meantime the Jarl asked him to join him by the table. The Jarl sat at the end of one of the two great dining tables and Vincent sat on the side, not too far away from him. They both reached out for the food which was still warm, freshly prepared by the cooks; the Jarl for some steak and Vincents for steamed salmon and mashed potatoes. Vincent stayed quiet, knowing that the Jarl wanted something and decided to wait and let the man speak first. "My supply of fish is running out, the salmon you're eating now is one of the last we have." he began, "I haven't yet renewed the deal with the Jarl of Riften. I would cover the costs of travel for you and reward you for it again: would you go to Riften's Mistveil Keep and deliver this note to the Jarl herself?". Balgruuf slid a small note with the seal of Whiterun on it to Vince.

Without a need for much contemplation, he agreed. It was easy money and a great opportunity to get away from this dragon infested area.

Once Avenicci came back with a hefty sum of 150 septims. Together with his findings in Bleak Falls Barrow and the 200 septims from Lucan after he delivered the stolen claw, and man was Lucan joyous like a child, Vincent's wealth amounted to about 450 septims. Not bad for 24 hours, not bad at all. Though the weight was starting to get irritating... He would have to find a bank of some sort. "Sir?"

Balgruuf looked up from his food, "Yes?"

Vincent asked, "Is there a bank in this city?"

Balgruuf face said it all however. "No, I'm pretty sure there would be one in Solitude, the capital city, but not in Whiterun. Why?"

Vincent pulled out the pouch he was using to carry all his gold. "I need someplace to store this money."

The two looked perplexed seeing as this was indeed a bit of an issue. Then Balgruuf lit up. "You know what? What do you say if you just keep it in my treasury? I'll just give you a note which will tell Avenicci how much money you have with us and then you can always come back and reclaim it!"

Vincent gave that thought a short thought and decided it wasn't half-bad. So they did just that though Vince kept 50 coins on him in case he would need anything.

Shortly after, he set off towards the stables just beyond the protection of the walls and hired a carriage to Riften for 15 gold pieces, thankfully, that's just how much the Jarl gave him.

They had to make a couple stops and one camp and the next morning they arrived to a fortified town by a lake. Its walls were thick but worn. After getting off the carriage and thanking the driver, this ride was more pleasant than his last one, he approached the gates and was stopped by a guard. 'Again? What is it with these guys? Is all of Skyrim like that?'

"Halt! Before I can let you in, you have to pay the visitor's tax" the guard proclaimed.

"What! What's the tax for!" Vincent was in disbelief.

"Why, for the priviledge of entering the city of course!" the guard replied.

'This has to be a joke, or some kind of set up!'. Then it hit him. The Thieves Guild was operating from Riften. 'What did Jose say? Its run by a guy name Mercury? No.' Darn, he couldn't remember the Guildmaster's name. 'What else was there? She said something a friend named Brynjolf. Let's hope for the best'. Vince cleared his throat.

"Right, this is obviously a shakedown! Tell Brynjolf that I won't fall for those tricks of his or I'll tell him myself" Vincent crossed his arms, putting up an act of defiance. To his relief, the guard, or rather the agent, admitted to the scam and let him in. 'Which means that if I meet a ugy named Brynjolf, I know who he really is'. The inside of the city felt quite compact. It may have been the fact that all the houses seemed to jut out forward on higher floors, overcast above the space where people walked. It wasn't too gloomy thankfully. There were both weeds and flowers growing along side the path and from what he could tell, the town centre also seemed specked with a few trees. The more time he spent in this Hold, the more he liked the Rift.

"Hey you! Come here, I wanna talk to you"

Vincent turned to see a hulking man leaning against a pillar. He wore steel armor with pauldrons and had a steel axe at his hip. To put it shortly; unimpressive. Regardless, Vince approached him.

The man started talking, with a gruff voice he said "I'm Maul," Vince rolled his eyes, "and I make sure everything runs smoothly around here for Maven. She's got the city in her pocket and the Thieves Guild to guard her back, don't do anything foolish or you'll end up talking to me again."

To which Vincent replied "Please. Stop stating the obvious and tell me something I don't know."

Maul however, simply glared so Vincent walked off towards the biggest building in the town. Unlike the Dragonsreach it wasn't so tall but it was clearly visible from the main town centre. The Mistveil Keep was a lovely building, though lacking in grandeur it made up in its more stout yet homely look, aided by the fact that it had vines creeping down its walls and plants planted in the front yard.

The meeting with the Jarl, Law-Giver she called herself, went well. He talked mostly to her steward about arranging fish deliveries to Whiterun but in the end it had to be ratified by her. When he was walking to the exit he overheard a couple of guards talking about a recent prisoner.

"Weird cat, all purple-ish in colour"

"And deranged too, pleading to be locked away though he hadn't comitted a crime"

"Can't wait until we can throw him out, though it would be nice to keep his ebony sword"

It was decided, Vincent had to see this Khajiit specimen. Purple fur? He would believe when he saw it!

So after exiting the Keep, he turned left to where he earlier saw the path that would lead downwards and presumably to the prison. He did come across a guard who wasn't so keen on letting anyone without authority through. A simple "I just talked to Law-Giver herself and am representing Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun. Do you think I don't have the authority to be here?" solved the problem. In all honesty, he didn't have that authority, but the guard fell for it anyway. Gotta give it to him though, at least he was trying to do his job.

When he entered the prison, the first thing that one could hear was the whisper-like talk of a Khajiit who sounded like he was in a conversation with someone. A note on the table mentioned the Khajiit but told him no more than he already knew. With his hands behind his back like always, Vincent casually walked in to the prison area, step by step getting closer to the Khajiit; who turned out to not be wearing anything, not even prison rags. 'I suppose he doesn't need that with his fur but still'.

The jail gate was locked, at a pretty adept level too so Vincent's rudimentary alteration spells would not open that lock. Instead, he kept blasting it with Frostbite until it shattered. Maybe not as sophisticated as an alteration spell that opens locks but it gets the job done.

The Khajiit only now saw Vincent's arrival and looked upon his face with horror and dejection.

"Oh, it's you. You've finally came to kill me, have you?"

 **So yeah! Inigo will be Vincent's companion! I figured that no character in the vanilla game is as funny and interactive as Inigo so I chose him.**

 **Also, this is a second update in one week. DON'T get used to that; I have half term week off so I had more time to write than usual. The next chapter will be out on Wednesday next week, just like I scheduled updates.**

 **Let me repeat the mantra: please follow and review! Those really help and are massively appreciated!**

 **Until next week!**


	6. Chapter 6: Dovahkiin

Chapter 6: Dovahkiin

"Yes yes, but could you hurry up?" Vincent was getting impatient with his new friend or rather follower.

The blue cat stumbled a bit, tripping over his new boots. Inigo, after being locked up without a single rag to cover himself, has grown unaccustomed to armour. Not his armour, for after Vincent freed the guy, it turned out he didn't have anything to wear as he asked the guards to get rid of it. So he gave Vincent his necklace, saying it ought to cover the costs of a simple outfit, and kindly asked him to procure some clothing for him. 'Well, if I'm going to have a follower, might as well keep him alive; I seem to have gained a new ability of attracting trouble lately' Vince thought.

As it turned out, the necklace didn't cover all the costs so Vincent was forced to pay up from the 50 gold coins that he brought with him and was left with a mere 15. Just enough for a carriage back. Anyhow, his new bipedal cat friend now proudly wore a Crimson Archer outfit; a thick grey tunic with overlapping belts and pockets, the shoulders being covered in red coloured leather and studded for better protection. The sleeves, which were just as thick reached down to his gloves. Further down, his trousers, red in colour and upheld by about 4 belts for reasons unknown, reached down and were tucked into a pair of fine leather boots lined with iron pieces. Inigo now looked every bit like a scoundrel.

"Forgive me, my friend. This new outfit itches my fur, and frankly, something tells me that it was made with human anatomy in mind" was Inigo's response.

The queasy smile Inigo could give somehow lessened Vince's frustration and he relaxed. Finally he sighed, "Fine, but please, can you refit it on the carriage? I would like to get to Whiterun as soon as possible."

They left through the city gate, Vincent gave the corrupt guard a glare, and approached the carriage driver. Vincent held out the purse with his last fifteen Septims and asked for a drive back to the Capital of White Hold for him and Inigo.

"Sorry lad, but that will only cover the expense for one of you" the driver replied and Vincent's heart sank.

"What do you mean? Surely it makes no difference whether you have one or two persons on your carriage" Vincent did not what to have to spend more time in this town than necessary, at least not if it was in order to work and make some income. He despised physical work.

But the driver was adamant that two people means two fees.

Vincent was at a loss for a second but then shook it off himself and turned back to the city. Confused, Inigo followed and asked "What do you want to do?"

"It seems I'll have to talk to one of the people who run this city and see if my friend's name means enough around here for me to make some connection"

Still, Inigo didn't understand the purpose of connections. "How would the Jarl of Riften be of any help right now? Surely she can't force the man to take you to Whiterun for half the price"

A smile crept up Vincent's cheeks, "No no no. You misinterpreted what I meant. I was talking of the people who run the city from behind the scenes, this is Riften afterall, the home of Skyrim's branch of the Thieves Guild."

Inigo's eyes widened "You would deal with such vermin?"

Vincent stopped in his track and sharply turned to Inigo. "They are not vermin. Yes they live in the Ratway sewers", he quickly added, knowing that this was why people often thought lowly of the Guild, "but they are people with connections and money. And money and connections are power. Learn this Inigo; friends with power are good friends to have and are far from being vermin." He then turned away from his companion and continued walking to the marketplace.

It didn't take long to locate the person he was looking for. This Brynjolf was quite a popular figure around here. People recognized him and his stall with the Miracle Falmer Blood Elixir. So Vincent walked up to him. "Say friend, you look like you are quite the smart man."

Brynjolf in turn laid eyes on Vincent and smirked. "And you lad look like your purse could do with extra weight."

'Bingo' thought Vince, 'definitely a Thief of the Guild.'

Nonetheless, he kept up him facade of friendliness. "True, I do happen to need some more finance." He leaned on the stall, facing the entire market and without looking at his interlocutor continued speaking. "Say, would a good friend of Jose lend me some money in good faith?"

At this Brynjolf looked at Vincent, shocked. "You know Jose?"

Vincent, without looking at him still replied, "Why of course I do," now he looked at Brynjolf, "influential people tend to know influential people as a rule of thumb. And as it happens, I believe that you owe him a favour for when he saved your life by breaking you out of prison the day before you were destined for the chopping block. You could pay for my carriage to Whiterun and I'll consider your debt to Jose clear."

"Hold on now there lad," Brynjolf began, "I owe a favour to Jose, not you. Why would I pay for your carriage?"

"Of course, but then again, Jose owes me a favour too. I'll write a letter to him telling him that I'm letting him off if he lets you off once you pay for my transport." Vince turned to the Guild representative. "So, wouldn't you call that a fair trade?"

Eventually, Brynjolf gave in, but not before they went to the nearest courier and he saw Vince actually write out the letter to Jose. And on their way out Vince added that he might want to swap out the guy by the gate for someone more competent.

The weather was not cooperative and so their drive took almost two days.

Stepping into Dragonsreach felt good, especially since one could practically feel the awe emanating from Inigo. The Jarl however and his personal Dunmer bodyguard didn't seem to be in such a wonderful mood as he.

The closer Vince got to the pair, the more he could hear and the more he became distraught. He couldn't believe what they were saying...

"It was faster than anything I've ever seen" reported the guard.

"Good job son, get a rest. Irileth, gather your men and go to the western watchtower. Find that dragon if its still there" said Balgruuf.

Vincent walked up to the Jarl slowly with the letter from Laila Law Giver in his hand as Irileth was headed for the outside. "My Jarl, I have the note from the Jarl of Riften, they'll be sending fish soon."The Jarl looked at him and to Vincent's horror the Jarl's eyes lit up.

"Vincent, you were at Helgen yes? You have more experience with dragons than any of us here"

A shiver travelled down his spine but he still managed a weak smile. "Well, that would be akin to saying that if I survived a siege so I must have some greater expertise with them." Vince gulped, "Its not exactly how it wor-"

"We need your help." Balgruuf interrupted him. "I would ask of you to go with Irileth and her men to the watchtower."

Vincent looked to Inigo for help but none came.

 _Outside the City, Half an Hour Later_

"So you survived an attack from a massive fire breathing lizard?" inquired Inigo. "That is amazing, sounds so thrilling! What was it like?" Unlike everyone else who were approaching to the smoking tower, Inigo seemed giddy at the prospect of combating a dragon.

Irileth on the other hand was quite serious about this, though in Vincent's opinion not as frightened as she ought to be. None of these people knew the hell that a dragon could unleash.

"Inigo, this is no laughing matter," he whispered harshly as some of the soldiers went inside the ruins of the tower, "if you haven't yet heard correctly, that dragon had single handedly slaughtered a battalion of troops in a fortified village. I have no desire to relive this nightmare."

Inigo looked like he was going to reply with some other witty remark, but a petrified soldier ran out of the tower dragging the men that came with them, screaming something about "it may come back any second".

A roar tore through the skies. Vincent froze. The frantic soldier broke down into hysteria, "Kynareth save us, here it comes again!"

Slowly turning to the mountains that housed Bleak Falls Barrow, Vince saw a humongous winged beast ascend above the clouds before re-emerging and gliding down towards them; its next prey.

Instinctively, Vincent dragged Inigo behind a slab of a broken wall and cast Oakflesh on himself before turning to his companion. "Listen Inigo, stay away from that thing, attack from a distance with your bow."

The dragon swooped right over their head and the wind from its wings made the two stagger. Looking up Vincent saw the dragon perching itself on another slab of the broken wall. It was not the same dragon as the one in Helgen, which wasn't much consolation as it meant that there are indeed multiple dragons around Skyrim and not just one.

This one was bronze in colour, slimmer and taller. It wrapped its tail around the stone and reared it head and took in a breath. Though it wasn't looking at them, Vincent was still familiar and terrified of what was to come next. The dragon spat a spout of fire and incinerated three guards, one of whom was foolish enough to believe that protecting himself with a wooden shield would help preserve him.

With the corner of his eyes, Vince saw Inigo draw on the string of his ebony bow, a deathly grey ebony arrow knocked and ready to deliver death. Following suit, Vincent readied a lightning bolt spell in both hands and along with his companion they started assaulting the reptile with a barrage of rapid strikes. Unlike the ungodly abomination from Helgen, this dragon seemed to notice and... wince?... Was this one feeling the pain from their attacks?

There was no time to wander about than now. It looked straight at them with pure hatred in its eyes and prepared a new set of flames for them. "Yol...!"

Inigo was already behind the stone, whereas Vince barely made it and his left arm was singed. Looking at the burnt cloth, Vince noticed that his Oakflesh shield was charred and hurt like hell. 'Figures that oakflesh wouldn't work well against fire' he thought grimly.

Summoning a healing spell in his left arm, he started healing it slowly, though it was a slower process as the injuries hindered the flow of magicka in that arm. Yet before he fully treated his ailments, the dragon swooped onto the their stone wall piece and Vince staggered. Turning around, he saw the dragon head launching itself at him, aiming to bite him in half of those jaws would latch onto him. Vince barely managed to dodge and draw Elegance and for the first time in year, he swung it _erratically_. He managed scratch the dragon's eye and the beast took off into the skies, though it didn't leave.

Vincent's knees felt weak and Inigo barely ran up to him in time to catch his comrade.

First Vince looked at Inigo then at the dragon that decided to land amid the Nord soldiers and was cutting through them like butter; first he would club two against a fragment of a wall with its tail, then fling one with his wing. Once poor soul had the beast teeth clamp down on their torso and the dragon shook their body violently before chucking it aside. The corpse was in shreds. Some were smarter than others. Two archers placed themselves on the stairs to the tower and fired arrows incessantly.

The dragon remained undeterred. It shouted "Yor Tor Shul!" and a burst of flame was hurled at the two archers. Only three guards remained, Irileth and Vicne and Inigo. Irileth charged the dragon in righteous fury, aiming for its wings, having initial success and cutting through the right one sufficiently so that the beast was unable to fly off properly. However, her victory was short lived; the dragon too assaulted her with righteous fury for this impulence on her side. How dare she try to take his flight?

Soon Irileth found herself pressed against a wall without her sword and no magicka left.

The dragon was about to deliver the killing blow until a black arrow found its way into the dragon's nostril. It roared in pain, leaving Irileth alone and turning to the source of its ire; Inigo and Vincent. It rushed, lumbered towards the two beings it decided will be the first to be devoured by him once he was finished here.

It breathed in, this time Vincent prepared himself and raised a Steadfast Ward and placed himself in front of Inigo and took the brunt of the fiery onslaught. However, Vincent could feel the magicka leaving him slowly. Two more spells and his reserves will be depleted.

The dragon was no close enough to attack them and lurched forward savagely, trying to tear them apart. Inigo being more nimble managed to roll out of the way, Vincent got caught on the dragon's head horns and was tossed away several feet. Inigo got the dragon's attention after slicing at its neck with his ebony sword.

In the meantime, Vincent was able to, whilst still pained and curled on the ground, cast the last strands of healing light. He stood up and picked up Elegance and rushed to the dragon.

Inigo attempted to stab at the dragon's mouth but the beast foresaw this and bit down on the sword, and pushed the hilt back into Inigo who got knocked on the ground with his breath pushed out of him. Before he could get up, Inigo's chest was covered with the dragon's paw, immense pressure pushing onto his chest, stopping him from breathing. The dragon loomed above him, wicked smile plastered on its maw. It took great delight in seeing his prey squirming beneath him. The beast lowered its head, its row of fangs at full display before Inigo's face and at that point Inigo understood Vincent's apprehension towards dragons.

The dragon's chest rumbled and whispered "Yol..." and great heat started emanating from its jaws.

However, before the death came, the dragon's pained shrieks filled Inigo's sensitive ears. He opened his eyes and was met with the sight of a dragon flailing around. A steel rod, no... Elegance protruding from its eye. It was now rubbing its head on the ground, trying to displace the infernal sword from its cranium but it made it worse. Its breaths became ragged and it stopped its tantrum.

It gazed one last time at the man who brought this fate upon it; Vincent was standing right next to Inigo and stared right back into the beast's eyes with a mixture of paralyzing fear and determination to survive.

With its last strength, the dragon stood up on its hind legs and roared into the skies before collapsing onto the ground. Vince and Inigo absorbed the sight of the mighty monster splayed out dead in front of them.

To their further hock, as if today wasn't entertaining enough, the dragon's body was engulfed in golden flames and strange magicks started flying out of it to... Vince!

Both men could only watch as Vince devoured the odd energy, leaving only dragon bones in place of the once mighty beast.

However, Vincent felt a rush of energy and it was overwhelming. He'd never felt so alive! So awake! Every sense became insanely more acute and all colours became more vibrant. A new level of understanding passed through his head and stopped at Fus. Force.

Impulsively, Vince shouted out "Fus!" with all his might and a blue burst of energy escaped his throat, being unleashed into the havens above.\

As quickly as it came however, this feeling disappeared and Vincent returned to his normal cognitive state. Everyone had gathered around him, Inigo was at a loss of words, the guards were in awe, Irileth looked at him with distrust. One of the guards walked up to him and proclaimed "You just devoured a dragons soul and shouted! Like the heroes of old!"

Vincent could barely comprehend what was being said to him, he still felt dizzy. This must looked like disbelief to the guard who continued convincing everyone.

"Just like the legends say, just like Talos himself; you are Dragonborn!"

 **So that's that. I really hope you enjoyed the fight scene, I tried to keep it as game-related as possible whilst at the same time adding my own little twists and realism to it.**

 **Also, I hadn't asked before but what do you guys think of the story's pacing? Too fast, too slow? Should I make time skips greater or more common?**

 **Again, let me regurgitate this mantra: please favorite, follow and review!**

 **See you next week!**


	7. Chapter 7: Horn Part 1

Chapters 7 & 8: The Horn; Part 1: Ustengrav

 _~ Few Days Ago ~_

Two figures stammered and stumbled along a snowy cliff, their cheap fur cloaks not providing quite enough warmth from the icy bite of the mountain winds raging around them. They looked up in hopes of finally seeing their destination, but to no avail, either it was yet further or they could not glimpse it through the blinding blizzard's onslaught. One, blessed with fur which let him fare better, did not let the weather get to him as much though. Turning to his friend and smiling, showing off his fangs, he said, "You know, I believe that usually climbing is a taxing activity, but here, I'm sure no human would ever break a sweat!"

His friend stopped dead in his tracks and from below his hood Inigo could intercept the death glare and the message behind it: "Don't even go there" but Inigo was only just getting started. "This must be the famous Skyrim weather people all over Tamriel talk about! I'm sure they are jealous of us right now!" Inigo continued, "You must be loving it. You are half Nord afterall, this is surely in your blood. You-"

"Inigo, stop." Vincent finally muttered and carried on walking. "This whole fiasco is tiring as it is without your input. Can we please just focus on getting to this High Hrothgar monastery place to sort out this Dragonborn business. I need those old men to tell me what it is that a Dragonborn does so that I can get off of this forsaken mountain before I freeze my-" the blowing wind blocked out what Vince just said, and even Inigo couldn't hear that word "-off!" Well, one might assume the context though.

But Inigo was not letting up, and even as they were climbing the steps -apparently 7,000 of them because ancestors thought it would be a splendind idea- Inigo walked backwards just to better interact with his friend. "I may not be a people person, but something is telling me that you're on edge." he teased again.

The wind thrashed against them in one more desperate attempt to knock the pair off their feet and down the mountain side. After recovering from the blow, Vincent looked up at Inigo and this time it was his turn to smirk. "Perhaps, perhaps not... But at least I know where I'm going." he countered.

Confused, Inigo asked, "And do I not know where I- ahh!" The poor Khajiit tripped over a higher step and landed on his buttocks on a flight of carved stone stairs that led up to an imposing cathedral. The cat looked up at his victorious companion, got up and dusted himself off before muttering something under his breath. Vincent on the other hand went ahead and started climbing the stairs until he came to stand in front of ancient ornate doors. He steeled his nerves and entered.

 _~ Present ~_

Under no circumstance, did Vincent ever imagine he would be trying to find his way through the marshes of Morthal. He had to take round-about directions in order to not tread through the murky waters full of Divines know what. The air didn't smell any better either and in this regard he could now make fun of his compatriot, saying things like "So, Inigo, I heard that your feline folk have a good sense of olfaction. Have I heard right?" One cannot deny, revenge tastes sweet.

They trekked like this for the past two hours since arriving in Morthal after hitch-hiking a ride from a carriage passing by as they were walking back to Whiterun.

'Unbelievable' he thought to himself. 'I made my way all the way to the Throat of the World just to be told that I must be a hero and that I could achieve that by fetching a horn from a crypt'. Vincent shuddered at the next thought, 'probably full of frostbite spiders and draugrs'.

His companion brought him out of his musings when he pointed to a stack of stones around a stone pit saying that this looks like an entrance to Ustengrav. After checking the map, they appeared to be in the right place. Though to Vince's displeasure, it wasn't just them. Both companions crouched low to not be spotted by the beings camping by Ustengrav. To add to Vince's ire they turned out to be necromancers if their attire was anything to go by which in turn meant that the moment they see the two, their numbers would double; three mages -a challenge on its own- and three raised dead. That is unless...

"Inigo, can you shoot one of these from here? I'd rather not tangle with six foes."

His compatriot looked at him- offended and replied "Of course I can hit them from here. I could do it with one of my paws behind my back!"

Skeptical, Vince whispered back to him "You'd use a bow, with one hand. Pray tell, how?"

Pulling out his ebony bow and without breaking his aim, Inigo smiled and replied "With my flabbergasting bownmanship skills of course." and unleashed a black arrow at their unsuspecting foes. True to his word, Inigo's arrow pierced the neck of one of the necromancers and he fell down with a thud. It was at that moment that all hell broke lose. The two remaining practitioners of the dark arts ran for cover and cast armor spells, though from here Vincent could not tell of what variety, and raised two of the three fallen bandits to fight for them.

Vincent in turn cast an Oakflesh upon himself and drew forth his sword. Then he realised that his friend isn't prepped to handle incoming spells. He turned to his friend and explained the plan to him, "Inigo, you try to stay behind me and shoot the mages whilst I fight off their minions and take on their destruction spells!"

At this point Vince prepared a Lesser Ward spell and started casting it in front of himself, just in time too. After a few seconds he could feel the impact of an ice shard. This, however, made it difficult to see the raised dead, their outlines were smudged by the spell's distortions. One seemed to weilding an iron mace, the other a steel sword, both rusty. Sluggishly, as was expected from a meak zombie, one of them swung the mace aimed for Vince's head but Vincent ducked, slashed the walking corpse's arm off and took a step back then walked to their side and raised his ward again. Inigo thankfully moved to stand behind him and stayed in cover, safe from the necromancers' ice magic. He then took aim and shot another arrow in their direction. Whether he hit or not was quite obvious since the disarmed zombie turned to purple dust after loosing it's connection with its master. That in turn meant only one was still standing.

Plus her minion.

Vincent charged at the undead bandit and engaged in a quick exchange of sword blows. After a mere few seconds he saw an opening and slashed low at it's right leg, bringing it to its knee and then proceeded to hack of the corpse's head off. Satisfied with his work he turned to face the last mage and in panic quickly tried to raise a ward. Those, however, need a moment to charge up so the ice shard hit Vincent's rushed attempt at a magical shield. The energy recoil knocked him down. When he looked up again he had to roll to the side and not a moment too soon as immediately a thick icicle embedded itself into the ground where he previously lay. Getting back to his feet, Vincent disregarded the ward spell in favour of a lightning bolt and started barraging the necromancer with electricity. In order to get a better shot, Vincent started moving around the entrance to Ustengrav but in turn the necromancer kept hiding behind the same rock that jutted from the ground. Just when he thought this was going to last for ever unless one of them would run out of magicka, the necromancer raised the last bandit; the one laying behind Vincent, all unbeknownst to Vince. The last zombie rose to his feet and raised a battle axe above it's head, readying to bring it down on his unsuspecting victim.

Vincent in turn, oblivious to the imminent danger behind his back readied another lightning bolt to strike the smirking necromancer. Before he could however, the necromancer's face was filled with pain and she collapsed on the ground with an arrow potruding out of her back. Vincent heard a clatter behind him and turned to find a pile of purple glowing dust with an iron battleaxe laying beside it. Realisation dawned on him and he felt sick; he was a hair breadth away from death until Inigo's miraculous hit. His friend walked up to him, still smiling from the thrill of the fight. In any other circumstances Vince might have even joined him.

His companion however wanted to press on, saying "Come on friend. The faster we get the Horn the earlier we can go back to a nice warm tavern in Morthal."

Swallowing back the bile that was trying to force its way from his stomach, Vincent got up and together they descended down to the depression in the ground and stepped into Ustengrav.

The two companions fought back the three draugrs fiercely. Both being experts in sword combat, they managed to keep the ancient warriors at bay with ease.

'I'll have to challenge him to a spar once we get out of here,' thought Vincent as he watched Inigo pierce the chest of one of the draugrs. He himself, not wanting to fall behind, locked blades with one of the monsters. He then tilted his own blade and let the ancient Nordic sword slide to the side and he proceeded to quickly slash the next of his opponent. Though no blood gushed out, having dried up ages ago and due to no heartbeat pumping it out, the undead still collapsed at his feet and Vincent turned to the next draugr. That one they surrounded and overwhelmed quickly.

'to think that this shall be the monotonous task we will have to carry out for the next two hours or so.' then another thought intruded his mind, 'This better not take more than a couple hours or else the Greybastards will never get their horn back, even once I acquire it.'

 _~ A Short While Later ~_

Both stood stunned, eyes filled with wonder at the cavern in they stood in front of. The ceiling stretched at least a few hundred feet above the bottom of the chasm where Inigo claimed he could see trees and water. Vincent obviously scoffed at the idea, even if the cat could somehow see that far into the gloomy cave, there is no way that anything could grow down there. Another prominent feature of the cave were the Nordic ruins and a rock bridge that reached overt othe other side of the chamber. Alas, Vincent decided to end his reverie soon and continued down the collapsed walkway down to the... hall room? It was difficult to tell what the purpose of this section of the ruins was. As Vincent got closer he recognised some features of the hall. Some chairs, even a throne, ramparts for archers though the Divines know why one would need them here, and braziers with fires lit. How that could be that torches are always lit in Nordic ruins Vincent would never fathom.

Inigo however, tensed up, his finer ears have picked up scuttling sounds coming from the structure left by the ancients and drew his ebony sword. Without questioning Inigo's actions, Vincent drew Elegance and held it in front of him, ready for whatever danger his compatriot had sensed. After a short while, a short distance away from them, fire erupted from the ground and in the lights cast by the inferno Vincent could see the charring bones, crumbling remains of a formerly living skeleton. In the corners of the hall, other skeletal warriors awoke and ran in the direction of the living intruders.

At this, Vincent raised his eyebrows and turned to Inigo, "You know, let me handle it."

Mirthly, Inigo replied, "Oh, how brave of you, Dragonborn. How will you manage to fend off these dusty walking bones? Woe is you!"

Without sparing a second glance at the cat, Vince walked forward, ready to face of the dead. When about three were close to each other and at reasonable disance, Vincent inhaled and proclaimed forth "FUS RO!" and all the bonemen skattered in different directions. Only one seemed to remain; the one that ran over from the cavern's stone bridge and it appeared to be completely undeterred by his kinsmen lying in pieces at his feet. Vincent too wasn't impressed. He didn't even raise his sword to a suitable defensive position. When the skeleton was close enough, it sluggishly swung a short war axe over its head, only for Vincent to swiftly step to the side and with a flick of his wrist, spun his sword and hit the back of the dead man's head and the skull popped right off the spine. Immediately the entire structure collapsed.

"That was erm... easy?" Inigo half-asked and after looking at the remain closely added, "Granted, those bones probably were a few hundred years old and were bound to be fragile."

And so they both sheathed their blades and continued onwards with Inigo merrily taking the lead onto the land bridge. Vincent looked at it first, before deciding it is probably safe enough. Inigo, however, saw the hesitation and decided it would be a great moment to make fun of his friend. "Oh what is it now? Scared of heights?"

"Hardy har. No, since you're blazing the trail for me." Vince replied confidently, "Should this geological phenomenon collapse, it would collapse under your feet not mine."

Suddenly, Vincent stopped again. He was hearing strange, distant voices in his again. Like a choir whispering from afar. Taking his time to take in his surroundings, Vincent tried to locate the source of his mental perturbations, though to no avail. The chanting echoed in his head, so perhaps it wasn't located in he cavern itsel-

"Why have we halted again?" whined Inigo. He walked back up to his human friend and asked why would he not move froward.

"I'm hearing strange chantings in my head and I'm wondering what the source of that is... Perhaps some sort of enchantment cast someplace around here..."

Inigo looked down to his right and pointed to something beyond Vincent's restricted view and asked, "Would this ornate wall perhaps be the source of the curse you are speaking of?"

"Im afraid I can't see what wall you're talking about. My eyes don't functions as well in the dark as yours do." Vincent answered.

So Inigo decided to explain that the wall looked to be scratched in an oddly regular manner, and that it was curved-

"Wait! With a dragon head carved above it?" Vincent now realised what this distant chanting could be!

"Yes...? How did y-"

But Vincent cutt him off and started dragging his friend back whence they came and grabbed a torch off a wall and shot off in the direction of the chasm where the Word Wall lay. Their descent was slow due to Vincent erring on the side of caution when it came to walking next to a precipice. It turned out that there was indeed a flowing waterfall down here (additionally Vincent thought ,'Damn it, he was right about the trees growing down here.') and walked around the imposing structure that held more "Words of Power" as the Greybeards called them. The chanting in his head had reach a crescendo and was now very clear; unmistakable and identical tothe last time he had come face to face with one of those. As Vicnent approached the wall, one word started radiating light and he felt a pull to it. Vincent instinctually read the word, with a faint understanding of "Fade" or "Feim" in dragon tongue though what it pertained to was still a mystery to Vincent and he'd have to bring this up to the Greybeards.

 **...End of Part 1...**

 **So sorry for the long wait! We were moving houses, then had exams, then family came over from abroad and now I'm doing extra shifts at work hence have found myself elsewise preoccupied.**

 **Anyway, I'll try to release the second half of this chapter next week. Again, thank you for anyone who still follows and let me praise my brother-in-everything-but-blood "AndrewJohnston7" for reading through this for me and spotting five times as many mistakes as I usually do!**

 **Like, Follow and most of all leave Reviews (they really motivate a guy to write more and its always better to know how you guys think I could improve)**


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